Overview

The mysterious Jay Gatsby embodies the American notion that it is possible to redefine oneself and persuade the world to accept that definition. Gatsby's youthful neighbor, Nick Carraway, fascinated with the display of enormous wealth in which Gatsby revels, finds himself swept up in the lavish lifestyle of Long Island society during the Jazz Age. Considered Fitzgerald's best work, The Great Gatsby is a mystical, timeless story of integrity and cruelty, vision and despair. ...

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Fair This item is listed as acceptable and probably has been well used. It could have considerable writing or highlighting throughout but is still usable and has been priced ...accordingly. Please don't buy it if you are expecting a really nice copy. It has a couple more reads left before it's time to be recycled. Big Hearted Books guarantees to process your order within 1 business day, offers expedited shipping, and no hassle returns. Buy purchasing this item, you are helping raise much needed funds for our charitable partners throughout New England. Big Hearted Books is sharing the love of books one book at a time!Read moreShow Less

1988 Mass Market Paperback Fair This is a used book. It may contain highlighting/underlining and/or the book may show heavier signs of wear. It may also be ex-library or ...without dustjacket. All orders are shipped the same or the next day..Read moreShow Less

1988 Mass Market Paperback Fair This is a used book. It may contain highlighting/underlining and/or the book may show heavier signs of wear. It may also be ex-library or ...without dustjacket. All orders are shipped the same or the next day.Read moreShow Less

1988 Mass Market Paperback Good Books have varying amounts of wear and highlighting. Usually ships within 24 hours in quality packaging. Satisfaction guaranteed. This item may ...not include any CDs, Infotracs, Access cards or other supplementary material.Read moreShow Less

More About
This Book

Overview

The mysterious Jay Gatsby embodies the American notion that it is possible to redefine oneself and persuade the world to accept that definition. Gatsby's youthful neighbor, Nick Carraway, fascinated with the display of enormous wealth in which Gatsby revels, finds himself swept up in the lavish lifestyle of Long Island society during the Jazz Age. Considered Fitzgerald's best work, The Great Gatsby is a mystical, timeless story of integrity and cruelty, vision and despair.

The timeless story of Jay Gatsby and his love for Daisy Buchanan is widely acknowledged to be the closest thing to the Great American Novel ever written.

What People Are Saying

From the Publisher

James Dickey Now we have an American masterpiece in its final form: the original crystal has shaped itself into the true diamond. This is the novel as Fitzgerald wished it to be, and so it is what we have dreamed of, sleeping and waking

Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble

Frequently hailed as one of the premier works of American fiction, The Great Gatsby certainly stands on its own, but it will attract additional attention with the May 10th opening of a new film version starring Leonardo di Caprio, Carey Mulligan, and Tobey Maguire. A movie tie-in edition of a great American classic.

Edwin C. Clark

. . . It expresses one phase of the great grotesque spectacle of our American scene. It is humor, irony, ribaldry, pathos and loveliness. . . . A curious book, a mystical, glamorous story of today. It takes a deeper cut at life than hitherto has been essayed by Mr. Fitzgerald. He writes well -- he always has -- for he writes naturally, and his sense of form is becoming perfected. -- Books of the Century; New York Times review, April 1925

School Library Journal

Gr 8 UpAn initial biographical essay and closing chronology introduce Fitzgerald, his era, and his place in American literature. "For Further Research" includes Web site sources and provides helpful primary and secondary references. Spanning more than 50 years of criticism, the 19 pithy essays, one by Fitzgerald himself, are divided into three chapters that successively focus on Gatsby's character, American culture, and literary structure. Additional quotes, boxed and placed throughout the text, provide additional support for the authors' positions. There is little overlap of other Fitzgerald or Gatsby volumes in similar series, and although comparable titles written by one author exist, this volume's multi-authored critiques afford a highly varied, even conflicting, dialogue that's necessary for stimulating classroom discussion.Kate Foldy, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh

From the Publisher

James Dickey Now we have an American masterpiece in its final form: the original crystal has shaped itself into the true diamond. This is the novel as Fitzgerald wished it to be, and so it is what we have dreamed of, sleeping and waking

F. Scott Fitzgerald was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, in 1896, attended Princeton University, and published his first novel, This Side of Paradise, in 1920. That same year he married Zelda Sayre and the couple divided their time among New York, Paris, and the Riviera, becoming a part of the American expatriate circle that included Gertrude Stein, Ernest Hemingway, and John Dos Passos. Fitzgerald was a major new literary voice, and his masterpieces include The Beautiful and Damned, The Great Gatsby, and Tender Is the Night. He died of a heart attack in 1940 at the age of forty-four, while working on The Love of the Last Tycoon. For his sharp social insight and breathtaking lyricism, Fitzgerald is known as one of the most important American writers of the twentieth century.

Read an Excerpt

The Great Gatsby

Scribner

Chapter One

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

"Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone," he told me, "just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had."

He didn't say any more but we've always been unusually communicative in a reserved way and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consequence I'm inclined to reserve all judgements, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought - frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon - for the intimate revelations of young men or at least the terms in which they express them are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally at birth.

And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes but after a certain point I don't care what it's founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction - Gatsby who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the "creative temperament" - it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again. No - Gatsby turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.

My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations. The Carraways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we're descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the actual founder of my line was my grandfather's brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the Civil War and started the wholesale hardware business that my father carries on today.

I never saw this great-uncle but I'm supposed to look like him - with special reference to the rather hard-boiled painting that hangs in Father's office. I graduated from New Haven in 1915, just a quarter of a century after my father, and a little later I participated in that delayed Teutonic migration known as the Great War. I enjoyed the counter-raid so thoroughly that I came back restless. Instead of being the warm center of the world the middle-west now seemed like the ragged edge of the universe - so I decided to go east and learn the bond business. Everybody I knew was in the bond business so I supposed it could support one more single man. All my aunts and uncles talked it over as if they were choosing a prep-school for me and finally said "Why - ye-es" with very grave, hesitant faces. Father agreed to finance me for a year and after various delays I came east, permanently, I thought, in the spring of twenty-two.

The practical thing was to find rooms in the city but it was a warm season and I had just left a country of wide lawns and friendly trees, so when a young man at the office suggested that we take a house together in a commuting town it sounded like a great idea. He found the house, a weather beaten cardboard bungalow at eighty a month, but at the last minute the firm ordered him to Washington and I went out to the country alone. I had a dog, at least I had him for a few days until he ran away, and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman who made my bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove.

It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road.

"How do you get to West Egg Village?" he asked helplessly.

I told him. And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler. He had casually conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood.

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees - just as things grow in fast movies - I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

There was so much to read for one thing and so much fine health to be pulled down out of the young breath-giving air. I bought a dozen volumes on banking and credit and investment securities and they stood on my shelf in red and gold like new money from the mint, promising to unfold the shining secrets that only Midas and Morgan and Maecenas knew. And I had the high intention of reading many other books besides. I was rather literary in college - one year I wrote a series of very solemn and obvious editorials for the "Yale News" - and now I was going to bring back all such things into my life and become again that most limited of all specialists, the "well-rounded" man. This isn't just an epigram - life is much more successfully looked at from a single window, after all.

It was a matter of chance that I should have rented a house in one of the strangest communities in North America. It was on that slender riotous island which extends itself due east of New York and where there are, among other natural curiosities, two unusual formations of land. Twenty miles from the city a pair of enormous eggs, identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay, jut out into the most domesticated body of salt water in the Western Hemisphere, the great wet barnyard of Long Island Sound. They are not perfect ovals - like the egg in the Columbus story they are both crushed fiat at the contact end - but their physical resemblance must be a source of perpetual confusion to the gulls that fly over-head. To the wingless a more arresting phenomenon is their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size.

I lived at West Egg, the - well, the less fashionable of the two, though this is a most superficial tag to express the bizarre and not a little sinister contrast between them. My house was at the very tip of the egg, only fifty yards from the Sound, and squeezed between two huge places that rented for twelve or fifteen thousand a season. The one on my right was a colossal affair by any standard - it was a factual imitation of some Hôtel de Ville in Normandy, with a tower on one side, spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy, and a marble swimming pool and more than forty acres of lawn and garden. It was Gatsby's mansion. Or rather, as I didn't know Mr. Gatsby it was a mansion inhabited by a gentleman of that name. My own house was an eye-sore, but it was a small eye-sore and it had been overlooked, so I had a view of the water, a partial view of my neighbor's lawn and the consoling proximity of millionaires - all for eighty dollars a month.

Across the courtesy bay the white places of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water and the history of the summer really begins on the evening I drove over there to have dinner with the Tom Buchanans. Daisy was my second cousin once removed and I'd known Tom in college. And just after the war I spent two days with them in Chicago.

Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever played football at New Haven - a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited excellence at twenty-one that everything afterwards savours of anti-climax. His family were enormously wealthy - even in college his freedom with money was a matter for reproach - but now he'd left Chicago and come east in a fashion that rather took your breath away: for instance he'd brought down a string of polo ponies from Lake Forest. It was hard to realize that a man in my own generation was wealthy enough to do that.

Why they came east I don't know. They had spent a year in France, for no particular reason, and then drifted here and there unrestfully wherever people played polo and were rich together. This was a permanent move, said Daisy over the telephone, but I didn't believe it - I had no sight into Daisy's heart but I felt that Tom would drift on forever seeking a little wistfully for the dramatic turbulence of some irrecoverable football game.

And so it happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to East Egg to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all. Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red and white Georgian Colonial mansion overlooking the bay. The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walks and burning gardens - finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run. The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon, and Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch.

He had changed since his New Haven years. Now he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner. Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face and gave him the appearance of always leaning aggressively forward. Not even the effeminate swank of his riding clothes could hide the enormous power of that body - he seemed to fill those glistening boots until he strained the top lacing and you could see a great pack of muscle shifting when his shoulder moved under his thin coat. It was a body capable of enormous leverage - a cruel body.

His speaking voice, a gruff husky tenor, added to the impression of fractiousness he conveyed. There was a touch of paternal contempt in it, even toward people he liked - and there were men at New Haven who had hated his guts.

"Now, don't think my opinion on these matters is final," he seemed to say, "just because I'm stronger and more of a man than you are." We were in the same Senior Society and while we were never intimate I always had the impression that he approved of me and wanted me to like him with some harsh, defiant wistfulness of his own.

We talked for a few minutes on the sunny porch.

"I've got a nice place here," he said, his eyes flashing about restlessly.

Turning me around by one arm he moved a broad flat hand along the front vista, including in its sweep a sunken Italian garden, a half acre of deep pungent roses and a snub-nosed motor boat that bumped the tide off shore.

We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding cake of the ceiling - and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as wind does on the sea.

The only completely stationary object in the room was an enormous couch on which two young women were buoyed up as though upon an anchored balloon. They were both in white and their dresses were rippling and fluttering as if they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house. I must have stood for a few moments listening to the whip and snap of the curtains and the groan of a picture on the wall. Then there was a boom as Tom Buchanan shut the rear windows and the caught wind died out about the room and the curtains and the rugs and the two young women ballooned slowly to the floor.

The younger of the two was a stranger to me. She was extended full length at her end of the divan, completely motionless and with her chin raised a little as if she were balancing something on it which was quite likely to fall. If she saw me out of the corner of her eyes she gave no hint of it - indeed I was almost surprised into murmuring an apology for having disturbed her by coming in.

The other girl, Daisy, made an attempt to rise - she leaned slightly forward with a conscientious expression - then she laughed, an absurd, charming little laugh, and I laughed too and came forward into the room.

"I'm p-paralyzed with happiness."

She laughed again, as if she said something very witty, and held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face, promising that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see. That was a way she had. She hinted in a murmur that the surname of the balancing girl was Baker. (I've heard it said that Daisy's murmur was only to make people lean toward her; an irrelevant criticism that made it no less charming.)

At any rate Miss Baker's lips fluttered, she nodded at me almost imperceptibly and then quickly tipped her head back again - the object she was balancing had obviously tottered a little and given her something of a fright. Again a sort of apology arose to my lips. Almost any exhibition of complete self sufficiency draws a stunned tribute from me.

I looked back at my cousin who began to ask me questions in her low, thrilling voice. It was the kind of voice that the ear follows up and down as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again.

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Excellent Read

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Leah-books

Posted June 18, 2012

I Also Recommend:

What a great read! really enjoyed it. It was very easy for me to

What a great read! really enjoyed it. It was very easy for me to connect to the characters

19 out of 22 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted May 18, 2011

Boo!

Would like to read it except it didn't download the whole book! Guess that's what you get for .99 cents!

10 out of 22 people found this review helpful.

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Buccfinity

Posted April 1, 2011

Great Gatsby

The Great Gatsby does symbolize much more than what the anonymous man said. It symbolizes not only one of the major flaws of human beings, but the greatest test for us as well; honesty. Jay gatsby lived a lie and in the end died a lie as well. The book tells a lot about society and is very educational. It is overall a great book if you analyze it the wat Fitzgerald would want u to.

5 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

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orngcure

Posted May 15, 2011

My FAVORITE Fitzgerald book!

if you like books from this era then the great gatsby is a no brainer. While i have all the works of F Scott Fitzgerald this is by far my favorite. And when i saw the NookBook for only 99 cents it was undeniable!!

4 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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4432526

Posted March 31, 2011

never ever...

...listen to anonymous comments like that one, obviously the writings of a pathetic nobody who desperately knows nothing of fine literature. great read.

3 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted March 12, 2011

Never Ever read this book.

Worst book ever written. Ever. People say it is full of symbolism and mystery but really it's just the desperate pathetic writing of a desperate pathetic man.

3 out of 41 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted February 6, 2010

Disappointed

I had heard this was a great book. One friend told me it was her favorite book ever so maybe my expectations were too high heading into reading it. However, I didn't enjoy it at all. It was a very well written book but the story was just not very interesting and entertaining. The story is told through Nick Carroway but the main character is really Jay Gatsby. It's an interesting way to write a story but I thought Nick Carroway was boring with very little personality. He was just a shell of a character to tell the story through. While Gatsby had a mysterious quality to him, you could never really grasp his mysteriousness fully because fitzgerald didn't fill in the details about his life. Some people may find it intersting others may not. I didn't because it was hard to visualize Jay Gatsby. As a result, I was left with a bland character telling a story which centered around a mysterious individual that I couldn't even really picture in my head. That coupled with the story which to me was as boring as Nick Carroway (probably partly because it's told through his perspective) left me with an average book that I did not find entertaining. The only interesting part to me was Gatsby's mysteriousness but in the end that story never fully develops. But of course it all comes down to opinion. If your looking to read an entertaining story with an intricate and dynamic plot, this probably isn't the best book to read in my opinion of course. If your looking for a well written book that flows as good as it was written then you would probably enjoy this book. Fitzgerald did a great job of writing the book, to me the story itself just wasn't worth the read.

3 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted June 18, 2013

Choppy

Don't get this version it's really chopped up and hard to follow. Huge dissapointment.

2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted February 6, 2012

Timeless

It is just timeless. Think of Out of Africa, Dr. Zhivago, stories that capture the human condition. Drawn to it by Midnight in Paris. Thanks Woody. No good reason why I hadn't read before, despite the many I could advance. Hardcover all the way.

2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted September 24, 2013

A decent read

I was supposed to read this book in high school, but i didn't. With all the hype from the new movie and all, I decided to give it another try. I finished it, and honestly, found it to be quite forgettable. Not bad, just... meh.

1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted June 18, 2013

Dont buy

I bought this book for 1.99 thought i was getting a great deal for a classic but line spacing is all jacked up making it hard to read without geting a headache. B&N u need make books affordable and fix all the errors

1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted March 21, 2006

The Great American Novel

The Great Gatsby is by far the best novel ever written by an American. The themes of the Death of the American Dream, and how wealth corrupts, epitomize the 20s completely. Every person who said the book was shallow clearly lacked the literary vision to see Fitzgerald's incredible use of symbolism. Every color, every object, every setting and mood is symbolic of something. Fitzgerald doesn't write things w/o meaning. The GG is one of the greatest works ever completed by a human being.

1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted December 8, 1999

Best of the Century

This novel easily holds its own as the best the 20th Century produced. The use of the first person narrator ensures that we actually have to think for ourselves as readers -- is the entire story biased by Nick's perceptions? Also succeeds in exploring the dark side of the American dream -- how we can reach for success and come so close and then lose everything (or gain it all but be morally bankrupt). This edition is good for anyone doing a textual study of the novel since it includes extensive notes that indicate emendations to the text Fitzgerald and his editor made. If you have not encountered this novel before now, you must experience it. Don't let the language trip you up -- remember when this was written. If you expect it to read like the latest Grisham or King, you will be let down. Relax, it isn't Shakespeare either. This is reading that takes some effort. You could use the exercise.

1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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Anonymous

Posted May 13, 2014

Peppa

Cat hat sat

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Anonymous

Posted September 8, 2013

Love this story!

Real life. People are just like this story weather rich or poor. People want want want. Love and life. Human nature and its our nature to judge. Will never win. Do as you wish and hope for the best....love away!

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Anonymous

Posted July 30, 2013

UH CONFUSED

THIS PATICULAR BOOK MADE IT TO THE MOVIE THEATHERS LIKE EVERY OTHER BOOK DID BIG HIT INDEED

ANONYMOUS

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Anonymous

Posted July 12, 2013

Nook buyer beware!

I purchased this book for a book club selection. Unfortunately it was a copy that was not formatted correctly. It did cost very little, but I thought that was because it was an old book. Not so! Be sure you check the publisher, publishing date, and try to compare that to the paper versions. Not all inexpensive books are a bargain, but some are. You must learn how to tell the difference.

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Now I see why this book is considered a true American classic, a

Now I see why this book is considered a true American classic, and I completely agree with that. The book is an amazing novel that captures the early 1900s with amazing accuracy of the period of time. If you enjoy American literature &amp; history it’s definitely a must read. The writing of F. Scott Fitzgerald was exquisite and the higher class of America is excellently portrayed. Fitzgerald's characters will make you question yourself, way of thinking and ethics as they become enthralled in the drama that surrounds them all. This novel is amazing for discussions and will have to become a permanent fixture in your life after reading it once. I have to admit that this realistic story will make you think more before you analyze the theme &amp; the whole tale. It is a true classic that everyone should read. Who is an adult or coming of age to adult way of thinking. I remember long ago that I try to read the book in my early preteen and I didn’t quite understand until now in my adulthood.

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Anonymous

Posted May 17, 2013

got refund

My ebook was disjointed with hyphens everywhere. Every sentence was a new paragraph. There were not chapters. Impossible to read. I did an online chat with BN. After the rep looked at the mess I was reading, she immediately gave me a refund. Maybe they have it fixed now. Mine was $.99.

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